“Right there,” I said, slipping the cock from inside me and eagerly sitting up so I could watch him. I groaned with the release of it in my swollen pussy, my insides aching for that finish. Nonetheless, I was too fascinated by him.
“Fuck, Gavin.” I gasped in a high pitch, letting every sound I’d ever made to fake an orgasm roll off my tongue. “Shit, I’m coming. I’m—Come with me—“
Every vein in his neck appeared with the tension of holding himself back. He cursed under his breath, his hand moving up and down with a squeeze and accelerated rate, and as I moaned out a scream, he spilled over his hand.
The expression on his face was absolute ecstasy. Fucking hell, it had felt good to watch him come like that.
It didn’t feel like that with anyone else. I was even breathless, and I wondered if this was how he felt when he watched me.
His eyes were dazed when he finally lifted his head. When he saw me sitting up and smirking, the dildo tossed to the side, he looked like he might laugh.
“I didn’t know I could make you come with just my voice," I said.
“I thought you were coming with me,” he said, tongue running over his dry lips.
“God, I wish I could kiss you,” I said, laughing at how cute he was.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he said, and my lips puckered playfully as I glanced at the one he wanted to play with.
“I fucking hope so,” I said as I picked up the vibrator.
Our eyes were locked onto one another as the toy slipped effortlessly in my entrance, the C-shape curling within me, and, with a bit of adjustment, the outside suction settled comfortably on my clit. I sat back on my calves, my knees spread wide in front of the camera, and I scratched my nails down my thighs.
“All yours,” I said. “Make me come, Eros.”
A smirk lifted the right corner of his lips as he held that phone. “You might regret this in the morning,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going to stop.”
Every inch of my body was already on edge in anticipation.
I didn’t know what it was about that moment, about the waiting and not knowing what he might do, but god, I was starved for him.
And when the first stroke of the tongue moved across my clit, I let out an audible exhale.
“Fuck,” I muttered, wanting to sink back into the mattress as he started his slow torture. My eyes rolled, my body becoming limp with every stroke.
“Shit, Gavin—“
“You like that?” he asked. “Look at me.”
I did, and I nearly fell apart at his appearing so calm and collected there. Watching me. Controlling me. Fucking hell, it was hot. He wasn’t just pressing buttons. He was responding and memorizing my every move, calculating what each setting did to me, the combination of the outside actions and the G-spot gyrations inside me.
My hips undulated against the tease as he alternated the sucking and tongue movements, the pulsing and thrusting inside me. My fingers gripped the bed sheets so firmly that the fabric began to come off.
I was an erratic mess of moans and nerves. I couldn’t stop crying out his name. Cursing the air. Pulling my own hair.
I whimpered as the first orgasm poured through me. It waved over my body from my head to the tips of my toes. I could feel it in the strands of my hair.
“That’s it,” he encouraged me. “Moan for me, baby. Cry out my name when you come.”
His name was the only name I ever wanted to moan again. It tasted too good on my tongue, and it felt like ecstasy in my pussy. I grabbed my breast, squeezing and bruising my skin.
“Fuck, Gavin,” I sang with the pulse. “God, I wish it was you inside me. I need you,” I pleaded.
I heard him curse under his breath. “I love it when you talk like that.” He switched settings, and I whimpered with the drive of another orgasm threading through me. “How do you like that?”
